


Lessons in Waiting

by Limpet666



Series: Lessons in Waiting [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Complete, Fluff, Get-Together Fic, M/M, a world without the Force, bearded obi-wan, punk!Qui-gon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6237127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limpet666/pseuds/Limpet666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan gets one night a week to catch up on all his work, sat at a little table in a local coffee shop. But distraction comes in the form of a tall, mysterious stranger, who looks distinctly out of place.</p><p>Coffee Shop AU. Eventual QuiObi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Night on Coruscant was beginning to draw in as Obi-Wan tried his best to focus on the datapad before him. It was the driest text he had ever had the misfortune to read, and he was fighting to get through the chapter on ' _L_ e _arning Expectations and Comparisons in Key Stage 2 (standard) Central-Planet Younglings'._ It was made all the more difficult every time he rested his hand on his leg and could feel his trousers were covered in paint and fur. But he knew if he didn't finish it today, and make his revision notes, his house mates would make it impossible for him to finish later.

It wasn't that Obi-Wan didn't like his housemates, it was precisely the opposite in fact, and they were all good friends. But they were _loud_. And none of them were trying to get their degrees whilst also working full-time jobs.

Obi-Wan had discovered soon after moving in that he just couldn't study effectively when he could hear his friends laughing and talking around him. And as much as they tried to be respectful and keep the noise down, the walls were paper thin and _certain_ noises carried.

So one day he had taken a detour after work, attempting to find somewhere better to study, and had found himself at a small coffee shop. There had been barely a handful of customers at that time of day, and Obi-Wan settled comfortably into the environment. The smell of roasting beans, the hiss of the steamer, the low murmur of voices that were rarely loud enough to be distracting; it was wonderful.

And the coffee was delicious, and turned out to be just the encouragement he needed to get on with his studies.

So he had returned, and kept returning, same day, same coffee shop, every week. Slowly but surely getting through his required-reading and coursework. He stayed for hours at a time, and soon all the barristers knew his order by rote. Double shot latte to start, then a mint tea an hour or two later. Sometimes a pastry, if he had the money to spare.

With the dedicated time to study, Obi-Wan soon found his workload much easier to manage. So whilst his wallet was a bit lighter for the weekly overpriced beverages, his social life was much richer, and he was happier for it.

\- - -

Obi-Wan sipped at his coffee as he scrolled to the next page on his datapad, relishing the taste even as it scalded his mouth just a little. He couldn't afford many treats on a student's budget, so freshly-ground coffee was sometimes the highlight of his week.

Not that the rest of his week was usually terrible, but wrangling a classroom of younglings as an assistant teacher certainly wasn't the most stress-free job in the universe. Especially when all the younglings ever seemed to want to do was use him as a climbing frame, a canvas, or a playtoy.

So escaping to the quiet coffee shop once a week, away from the constant cacophany of ' _Mister Kenobi! Mister Kenobi!'_ was a decidedly pleasant change.

Despite having a clear view of the door over his datapad, Obi-Wan paid little mind to the chime when another customer entered. The general noises of the coffee shop were no longer enough to distract him from his reading.

He had soon learned there was a particular script that almost always proceeded when someone ordered a drink, and Obi-Wan could tune out the standard format; _'What can I get you today?' 'I'd like a…' 'Would you like...with that?'_ And so on.

As long as the comfortable exchange continued Obi-Wan wouldn't be roused.

However, this time the order at the counter didn't go smoothly, and his attention was drawn almost immediately.

“I'm sorry, sir, we only serve the drinks listed on the board,” the Twi'lek barista was smiling as she gestured to the board on the wall behind her. “I can make some recommendations, if you like?”

“That won't be necessary,” the man's voice was soft, a little tense, and Obi-Wan could guess why. The man _did_ look out of place in the modern-styled coffee bar, and the eyes of the other customers were certainly on him. For a number of reasons, Obi-Wan would guess, and he pushed his glasses up from where they slipped down his nose so he could get a better look.

First of all, the man was _tall,_ and even if he had not been dressed head-to-toe in stark black he would have stood out. He wore a leather jacket audaciously decorated with metal studs, as well as various badges and patches that Obi-Wan couldn't read from that distance. They no doubt touted various rebellious slogans if the rest of his appearance was anything to go by.

In one hand he carried a helmet; no doubt for a streamline speeder bike parked nearby.

His hair was long and mostly brown, with just a few streaks of silver, and swept back down over his neck. Pushed back like that, it showed both sides of his head were shaved, and revealed the many rings that adorned his ears.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, silently congratulating the man on maintaining a style that was older than Obi-Wan himself. Popularised as an anarchic statement at the end of the previous government's failing regime, the style had largely died out when the Emperor had risen to power and the newly-formed Empire had begun to stabilise.

“Just a black coffee, then. To go,” the man finally requested, the exasperation plain in his voice.

“Sure thing. Would you like that tall, grande, or venti?” the barista asked.

A palpable silence of confusion followed and Obi-Wan hid his soft laughter behind his datapad.

“Large?” the tall man ventured, and the barista nodded with a smile and set about finally making the coffee. The whirr of the coffee grinder masked the man's sigh, but he was clearly glad the uncomfortable exchange was over. He looked like a man that was not used to being out of his depth.

Obi-Wan only realised he was staring when the man casually looked around as he waited, and their eyes accidentally met. Startled, Obi-Wan hurriedly looked away and down into his coffee, like it had become very interesting, and immediately cursed himself for reacting so childishly.

Great, now he was sure he was blushing all the way down into his beard.

He didn't dare look up again to see if the man had noticed his reaction, and could only pray that his reaction had gone unnoticed.

He distantly heard the man pay, and then the jingle of the bell above the door as he left.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh, rubbing at his still warm cheeks before trying to focus back down at his datapad. He felt like a child who had gotten caught doing something he shouldn't. It was ridiculous!

Eventually he did manage to put the exchange to the back of his mind, and finally finished off his cooling beverage as he read.

The hiss of the coffee machine went, and the remaining customers began chatting quietly again, and before he knew it Obi-Wan was ready leave, the awkward stranger completely forgotten.

\- - -

Obi-Wan scowled down at his keypad, then at the screen before him, them back down, willing his fingers to move and find the right words. His coffee steamed on the table to his right, half-empty, and the sweet pastry on his left remained untouched.

He didn't deserve the treat. Not when his essay was due in a week and he had only managed to write two, semi-legible sentences thus far. He should have started this weeks ago!

But with two teachers off sick, he had been putting in more hours at work, covering lessons, and helping out with after-school activities. And whilst he could always do with the credits, it had severely cut into his study time. And now time was fast running out for this essay.

The chime of the coffee shop door rang distantly in his hearing, ignored as always, but a minute later his attention was drawn from his work at the sound of a half-familiar voice. He looked up to see the same tall figure, same hair, same obnoxious studded leather jacket.

“One large black coffee, if you would,” he seemed more comfortable than the last time Obi-Wan had seen him, three weeks before.

“Is that an Americano, sir?” It was a different barista this time, and the question was innocent, but Obi-Wan could see the tall man falter. He had obviously not been expecting the question.

“Is that just plain coffee?” he asked, voice a touch softer.

“Yes, sir, with hot water,” the Rodian barista confirmed.

“Then yes, that.”

The man was clearly unwilling to say any of the silly coffee names or sizes, but the barista did not seem offended and set about making the drink.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, finding the man's obvious lack of experience and comfort with the stylised coffee format charming. He supposed it was a generational thing; the shops had only started to become popular in the Capital a few years ago when trading laws had been adjusted. Now they popped up in every major city in Republic space, and it was seen as a fashionable thing to frequent them. For those that could afford it regularly anyway.

Obi-Wan made sure he was already looking away when the man looked around. He wasn't going to get caught _twice._

\- - -

The third time Obi-Wan saw the man was a week later.

Obi-Wan was much less stressed this week and was able to enjoy his drink as he added the finishing touches to his essay, ready to send off to his lecturer before he left for home.

When the bell jingled above the coffee shop door, Obi-Wan looked up without thinking, in time to see the same tall man as before walk through. He supposed that maybe they had the same schedule, as he was arriving at almost the exact same time as the week before, when Obi-Wan's coffee was half gone but still hot

Considering it _was_ the third time he had seen him, Obi-Wan allowed himself to surreptitiously watch the man this time. He was certainly interesting enough to keep Obi-Wan's attention, although if anyone had asked he would have vehemently denied that he was staring.

Even though, objectively, Obi-Wan supposed he _was_ an attractive man. Even if his clothes were outdated.

The jacket was old (had to be, Obi-Wan had never seen anything like it made new), but well cared for, as were his boots, and Obi-Wan wouldn't have been surprised if they turned out to be older than he was. His hair, whilst not deemed a professional style on Coruscant, was tidily groomed, as was his beard. And despite his intimidating appearance, he spoke calmly, even when obviously frustrated.

This time the man's coffee order went without a hitch and Obi-Wan continued to watch him as he paid and then ultimately turned to leave. It wasn't until he was pushing the door open that the man glanced around, eyes landing briefly on Obi-Wan before he was out the door and gone.

Obi-Wan could have sworn he had intentionally looked at him.

\- - -

After that, the man became a regular fixture in Obi-Wan's life.

Every time he was at the coffee shop, the man would appear. At almost exactly the same time every week, and before long Obi-Wan started to look forward to his appearance. It gave him something interesting to look at for a short while; an allowed reprieve from whatever he was working on.

And Obi-Wan was no longer above admitting that the mysterious stranger was an attractive distraction.

Sometimes it was for barely a minute or so, if the man's order went without incident.

But occasionally Obi-Wan was lucky and there would be a queue, or a new barista, or a piece of equipment would malfunction, and he got a few extra minutes to watch him.

Sometimes he would see the man looking around, still obviously a little uncomfortable, like he felt he was somewhere he didn't belong. Obi-Wan was always careful to be looking away whenever the man looked like he might turn his attention towards him.

But sooner or later the man would pay and take his drink to go, always to go, and Obi-Wan would reluctantly return to his studying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who has commented and left kudos. It's been...wow, I little overwhelming to get people being so nice. (My apologies if I don't reply to your messages. I don't always know how.)

Blasted rain! Blasted transport! Blasted, foolish, idiotic Obi-Wan Kenobi! This was all his own fault.

He was late, he was stressed, and he was soaked to the bone. That the rain had washed the remainder of glue and wookiee vomit from his trousers was not the bright side he was looking for.

He had taken his eyes off the children for two seconds. _Two seconds._

But apparently that was all it took for Gungi, a wookiee youngling, to eat anything and everything he could get his hands on. Including paper, crayons, and glue that had made an absolutely awful mess of his fur.

And the spectacular multi-coloured vomit that had ensued had been just about as delightful as Obi-Wan expected.

The verbal disembowelment he received from Master Piell had been even worse, and his words still rang in Obi-Wan's ears.

“ _You are expected to watch the younglings, Mister Kenobi! You are entrusted with their safety and you let them down! You can damn well bet when the parents ask who's fault this is, you will be taking full responsibility!”_

The Master had continued to shout at him long after the students had finished for the day, and then Obi-Wan had been left to tidy up the classroom before he left.

The only saving grace of the whole ordeal had been seeing Gungi waving a cheerful goodbye to him, the wookiee obviously no worse for wear. Thank the Force for small mercies.

He had almost forgone going for coffee and instead gone straight home, but after a moment of deliberation he decided that, no, he needed something to cheer himself up. A treat. And as abject as he felt about his future right then, he did still have coursework to do.

So to the coffee shop it was.

Of course he'd missed the transport he would usually catch, but it was dry, so he saw no harm in walking.

Except that halfway there the sky decided to open, and the rain poured down like some cruel metaphor for the steep downward turn his life seemed to be taking.

In no time at all he was soaked to his skin and clutching his bag to his chest to try and preserve his books and datapads as best he could. He ended up practically running to the shop.

And when he got there, there was a queue. Because _of course_ there was queue this time.

But at least it was warm and dry, he told himself, and he tried very hard to queue patiently. All he wanted was a hot drink, and to peel off his dripping coat, and check on the contents of his bag.

His patience soon began to wane when he noticed the queue didn't appear to be moving. Why wasn't it moving? Coffee didn't take that long to prepare.

He leaned out of the line to see what the hold up was, and the last of his barely-held-together composure crumbled when he saw who was at the counter.

It was _him._

Obi-Wan couldn't take it. Not today.

Coffee. Was. Not. That. Hard. To. Order.

“By the gods! He's wants a Venti Americano!” Obi-Wan snapped loudly as he stepped out of the queue and marched stiffly towards the counter. “To go!”

Screw this. He would get his drink after he had peeled off his sopping coat and sat by the heater to warm up. His wet clothes were rapidly cooling, and even in the warm shop he was starting to shiver.

“It's what he has every time,” he continued to mutter to himself as he walked past the counter, not making eye contact with anyone there. “It's not that bloody hard.”

Obi-Wan was sure people were looking at him after the outburst, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He kept his head down as he got to his usual table, which was thankfully unoccupied, and dropped his bag onto it.

The interior of his bag had remained mostly dry, and the flood of relief calmed him somewhat. Obi-Wan got all his papers and pads out to make sure they stayed that way, and hung the empty bag near the heater to hopefully dry out a little before he had to put them back in.

He did the same with his dripping coat before he finally sat down, grimacing as his wet trousers clung to his legs. There was nothing he could do about it, so instead he reached for his datapad in an attempt to distract himself from his whirring thoughts and the nauseous feeling in his stomach.

He assured himself that he was not going to get fired, that if he was it would have been done immediately. Younglings were going to eat things they shouldn't, and he was only human, and istakes happen. Gungi was fine. He had not completely ruined his career. And he was definitely never _ever_ going to take his eyes off the younglings again.

But still his stomach coiled and his skin ran cold from the dread of what might have happened.

Obi-Wan nearly jumped out of his skin when a mug was abruptly put down in front him.

“Mint tea, correct?” Obi-Wan looked up (and up) to find sharp blue eyes looking down at him. It was him, the man from the counter, the mysterious stranger!

Right there looking at him, expecting him to reply!

“I-I--” Obi-Wan turned pale, realising what an ass he had just been, snapping in the middle of the coffee shop like that.

“I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean… you didn't need to--” His mind reeled at the idea that the man might be coming over to pick a fight, to shout at him for being so rude. He certainly looked like he could be the type, with his rebellious dress and intimidating stature.

Obi-Wan couldn't deal with that right now, not after the day he had already had, he couldn't--

“You looked like you could use a hot drink,” the man's demeanour turned gentler and Obi-Wan let out the shaky breath he didn't realise he had been holding. The man was not angry with him? But why? Why would the man was being so kind. He certainly did not deserve it.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan finally found his voice. “Please, let me pay--”

“There's no need,” the man cut him off politely, then held his hand down to Obi-Wan. “I'm Qui-Gon,” he introduced himself, and Obi-Wan took his hand automatically.

“Obi-Wan. Kenobi,” he replied, hoping his handshake had not been too weak, or too wet. He was still dripping with rainwater.

“So what's troubling you, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan blinked in surprise at the question and watched silently as Qui-Gon sat down in the spare chair at his table. Once settled, Qui-Gon looked at him with mild expectancy.

“I--” He didn't know where to start, especially considering it was _very_ surreal to have the man he had been surreptitiously watching for the last 4 months actually sitting across from him. Just so casually, like it was no big thing to buy a rude stranger a drink and ask if he was okay.

Obi-Wan ducked his head when he realised the act of kindness was somehow, ridiculously, stupidly, making him emotional. He hope Qui-Gon wouldn't notice.

“I just… I've had a really lousy day,” Obi-Wan admitted, trying to clear his throat. When there was no immediate reply, he chanced a look up, aware that his eyes were probably a little watery.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Qui-Gon asked gently, no judgement on his face, and after a moment Obi-Wan realised that Qui-Gon's offer was genuine. What kind of man would offer to listen to another man's woes?

“I...you don't have to...” Obi-Wan struggled. The man was a _stranger_ , and yet he felt like he was trustworthy. He seemed to exude calmness. But he did not want to abuse his kindness.

Qui-Gon reached out to push Obi-Wan's tea into his hands, “Please, sometimes it helps to air our worries.”

And so Obi-Wan did.

\- - -

The following week Obi-Wan noticed the moment Qui-Gon walked in, especially since it was a little earlier than usual. He was not sure what to expect, so he simply lifted his head in greeting to the tall man when he looked over.

Obi-Wan tried to hide his surprise when Qui-Gon brought his drink straight over to his table and sat down in the spare seat.

They made somewhat stunted small talk for a few minutes before Obi-Wan realised Qui-Gon wasn't going anywhere and just asked what was on his mind.

“So you know all about my problems,” Obi-Wan said with a small laugh. “What do _you_ do?”

During that first encounter Qui-Gon had patiently let Obi-Wan vent his anxieties, listening attentively until he talked himself out, and saying nothing about how the younger man's voice cracked or wavered. When Obi-Wan had talked himself out, Qui-Gon had assured him in a calm voice that he would be fine.

“This is an experience for you to learn from,” Qui-Gon had told him kindly. “Do so without humility, and move on.”

Then, before Obi-Wan could utter so much as a 'thank you', Qui-Gon was on his feet. He excused himself with an apology, wishing Obi-Wan the best of luck and instructing him not to dwell on the past for too long, before he was gone in a rush of black leather and long strides.

Now he fixed Obi-Wan with a calculating look, “What do think I do?” Qui-Gon asked, lifting his cup to his mouth.

Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair and scratched at his beard thoughtfully, “Hmm… well I think we can rule out anything political,” he ventured, and Qui-Gon lifted his eyebrows questioningly. “Well… with hair like _that..._ ” Obi-Wan gestured to the other man's shaven sides and left the statement unfinished.

Qui-Gon smiled and let out a low chuckle, and Obi-Wan tried not to look too surprised. Force, he had never seen the other man smile like that before; with genuine amusement, not just politely for the barista. It was a smile that lit up his whole face.

“Fair enough,” Qui-Gon agreed, and didn't make Obi-Wan guess further. “I teach.”

That got Obi-Wan's attention, and he leaned in with interest, “You're a teacher? What do you teach?”

“Self defence,” Qui-Gon answered, eyes taking in Obi-Wan's eager expression with amusement. “Mostly during the day, and one evening a week.” Tonight, no doubt. He must stop to get coffee on his way there, Obi-Wan figured.

“You must be good, to teach it,” Obi-Wan was all of a sudden fascinated at the prospect of this tall, intimidating-looking man teaching people to protect themselves. “Do you teach all ages?”

“I'm capable,” Qui-Gon agreed matter-of-factly, “and yes. I have younglings first tonight, and an adult class after that.”

“That must be very rewarding,” Obi-Wan fought to keep the wistfulness from his voice. All he wanted to do in life was teach, but it seemed like such a long time before he would get the chance. Most of the time he just felt like a glorified babysitter.

“It is,” Qui-Gon agreed, reaching out to tap one of Obi-Wan datapads, “but it takes work first. How are your studies going?”

Obi-Wan blew out a sigh, “Oh, they're going alright,” he pushed a pen across a pad of paper that had some half-legible notes scribbled. “It's hard to fit it all in; working all day, and then the coursework and reading and essays...”

“If it were easy, everyone would do it,” Qui-Gon told him, “You seem capable, you'll handle it.”

Obi-Wan laughed, feeling the heat on his cheeks at the compliment, “Thanks, I hope you're right.”

\- - -

The following week Obi-Wan wasn't surprised at all when Qui-Gon joined him, same time as the week before.

Qui-Gon was quick to ask about Obi-Wan studies, and he smiled when the younger man professed that he was happier about it this week. His reading was interesting, and his workload was feeling more manageable.

But Obi-Wan didn't want to talk about work and soon turned the conversation back to Qui-Gon.

“So, have you always taught?” He supposed he could guess the answer, but he was itching to know more about Qui-Gon. He looked like a man who had lived an interesting life.

Qui-Gon was slow to answer, and Obi-Wan started to worry he had asked something he should not have, but eventually the man did respond.

“No, I've worked many jobs,” Qui-Gon admitted, turning his eyes down towards his coffee. “When I was a young man jobs were hard to find. And harder to keep.”

With a little prompting from Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon went on to explain how he had been fairly well known as an Alliance sympathiser, and it had soured many employers against him. The only jobs available to him had been ones that played into the aggressive bad-boy image he had earned himself; manual labour mostly, some mechanical placements, and a few personal guard jobs when he was lucky.

So either the assumptions had been wrong, or Qui-Gon had mellowed unbelievably with age. Qui-Gon seemed like one of the most peaceful people Obi-Wan had ever met.

“People are all too willing to judge others on how they look,” Qui-Gon explained, “and they invent stories about those they do not agree with.”

“Why not just…” Obi-Wan gestured to Qui-Gon's hair, then his jacket. What was the polite way to say 'look normal'?

“Some things are worth fighting for,” Qui-Gon said simply, and Obi-Wan nodded like he could imagine what that felt like. Though in truth they both knew he had no idea.

Qui-Gon let out a breath before he continued, intentionally breaking the tension that had settled over them, “But everything passes in time. And I used the skills I developed during those years to get to where I am now.”

“And you're happy where you are?” Obi-Wan had to ask, and Qui-Gon nodded.

“I would not change it for anything.”

Obi-Wan sighed, wishing he could say the same. He couldn't even remember a time he was not tired and overworked.

“You're very young,” Qui-Gon said with a fond smile, “You have a lot of work ahead of you. Don't wish your time away so quickly.”

Qui-Gon stayed just a few minutes longer, finishing off his coffee, before he checked the time and got to his feet.

“Same time next week?” Obi-Wan asked with a hopeful smile, hoping it wasn't too presumptuous, and was pleased when Qui-Gon nodded.

“Until next week, Obi-Wan.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thank you so much for all your comments and kudos. It really warms my heart that people are actually enjoying this self-indulgent little story.

After a few weeks of meeting at the same time, Obi-Wan noticed that Qui-Gon started to turn up later. It was in small increments, so he didn't realise at first. But soon the older man wasn't arriving until Obi-Wan had already been there for an hour.

He began to worry that maybe Qui-Gon didn't want to sit with him any more, that he would keep coming later and later until eventually they would missed each other completely.

But it never got any later than an hour, and after a couple weeks of it being the exact same time, Obi-Wan finally asked.

“Have your classes changed time?”

Okay, so it was a roundabout question, but he didn't want to appear like he was getting clingy. Seeing Qui-Gon had quickly become the best part of his week, and getting to talk to someone with interesting stories and different life experiences (and sure, wasn't hard on the eyes either), wasn't worth jeopardising by being too direct.

“I rearranged them a little later this term,” Qui-Gon confirmed, looking at Obi-Wan over his cup.

When there was no more explanation forthcoming, Obi-Wan could only utter a lame, “Oh...”

“You said you don't always have the motivation to stay very long any more,” Qui-Gon finally explained, putting Obi-Wan out of his misery. “I thought I would give you more time before I arrived.”

It was true, Obi-Wan had confessed to Qui-Gon a few weeks back that sometimes he only stayed a few minutes after the older man had departed. After one of his housemates had moved out, the added stress of trying to find the extra rent money had made Obi-Wan too weary and demotivated to stay late.

Obi-Wan blushed all the way to his hairline when he realised Qui-Gon had rearranged his whole day, and that of all his students, just so Obi-Wan could have extra time to study.

“Y-you didn't have to--”

“You also mentioned you have your end of term examinations soon,” Qui-Gon pointed out. “Your studies are important.”

And Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan would have nothing else to do whilst he waited but to study.

“I... I don't know what to say,” Obi-Wan admitted with an embarrassed smile, “Thank you. I _have_ been getting more work done before you get here.”

Qui-Gon looked pleased, and Obi-Wan didn't know what he had done to deserve such kindness.

\- - -

“So what do all those badges say?”

It was a few months after they had first started meeting, and Obi-Wan only just then thought to ask. In truth he was looking for something to take his mind off the workload that was beginning to overwhelm him.

He could see the big sewn-on patches clearly enough; there was an old gang insignia (if Obi-Wan's history was right) on the upper arm, and an astromech droid with the 'clever' caption ' _R2-FU_ ' on the opposite lapel. There was also a patch that Obi-Wan thought might be the trademark of a historic rebel movement, but he hadn't learned much about that at school.

Qui-Gon lifted his eyebrows at the question, before pushing his chair back a little so he could shrug off the jacket and lay it on the table for Obi-Wan to see.

Not that Obi-Wan was looking at the jacket now. Actually he was attempting not to stare at the other man since he just realised he had never seen seen Qui-Gon without the jacket, or just how much it disguised his body. Today he was wearing a pale blue tee-shirt that fit across his broad chest snugly, and the short sleeves revealed well-muscled arms and a tattoo that Obi-Wan had never seen.

“What does _that_ say?” Obi-Wan blurted without thinking. Non species-specific tattoos were unusual on Coruscant.

Qui-Gon held out his arm so Obi-Wan could see the line of writing that stretched along his inner forearm. It was an old tattoo, the once black ink now a little blue, but the words were still clear: _May The Force Be With You_.

“It was something we used to say, my friends and I,” Qui-Gon explained. “It seemed important at the time.”

Obi-Wan wanted to ask what significance it held, but the way Qui-Gon's expression had saddened made Obi-Wan reconsider. It was probably something Qui-Gon didn't want to explain.

“Couldn't you get it removed?” Obi-Wan asked, wondering why he kept something that so obviously caused him pain.

“I could,” Qui-Gon agreed, pulling his arm back so he could pick up his coffee, “but we mustn't hide from our pasts. And not all of my memories of that time are bad,” he smiled again, and Obi-Wan was relieved to see it.

Obi-Wan turned his attention down to the leather jacket before him. Up close the conical studs that covered the shoulders were much blunter than they appeared, and there were signs of neatly hand-sewn repairs along some of the seems, the stitches so tiny Obi-Wan almost missed them.

It was the badges that really showed the age of the garment. Some of them were old enough to be showing some rust around the edges where the metal had oxidised, and the images on most of them were faded.

There were a variety of anarchic statements like ' _F**k the Systems'_ and ' _Not My Master'_ , as well as images like the symbol for the previous currency and crossed lightsabers (a military issue weapon).

Obi-Wan found them fascinating, and Qui-Gon was happy to answer his questions about the ones he didn't understand.

“What used to be here?” Obi-Wan asked in regards to some of the empty spaces. The small holes in the leather showed that once there had been pins there, but had long since been removed.

Qui-Gon chuckled, reaching out to touch one of the empty spaces fondly, “Those were the ones that were...less polite,” he explained diplomatically.

“Less polite than 'R-2-F-U?” Obi-Wan laughed, and watched with delight as Qui-Gon grinned, but couldn't coax him to say any more.

Sooner than Obi-Wan cared for Qui-Gon reached for the jacket so he could slip it back on. Their time was up and Qui-Gon had to go teach his evening class.

As he freed his long hair from the collar, Qui-Gon bid Obi-Wan farewell with the usual, “Until next week,” and left without a second thought.

But next week Obi-Wan wasn't there.

\- - -

Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan was not in the coffee shop the second he walked in. Obi-Wan was always at the same table, but Qui-Gon looked around just in case he had relocated somewhere else.

But Obi-Wan was simply absent.

The barista couldn't offer any information, and agreed with Qui-Gon that it was odd for Obi-Wan to not be there.

“Perhaps he is unwell,” the barista suggested, and Qui-Gon nodded. He could very well be, but Qui-Gon had no way to find out. In all the time they had been meeting they had never thought to exchange contact details.

Despite Obi-Wan's absence, Qui-Gon sat at the usual table for as long as he could, just in case Obi-Wan was running late.

But eventually he had to leave, trying not to dwell on why Obi-Wan may have missed their meeting.

\- - -

The next week Qui-Gon arrived early. He had found himself distracted all week, worrying about Obi-Wan mysterious absence, and had been eager to see the young man and make sure he was okay.

But Obi-Wan wasn't there, and the empty table mocked the worry that clenched in Qui-Gon's stomach.

He didn't much feel like coffee any more, but he ordered anyway, if only so he could speak to the barista. She told him that no one had seen Obi-Wan in there in the last two weeks.

“I'm sure he's fine,” she told Qui-Gon with a smile, and he cursed that the worry was obviously written all over his face. “He's probably just busy with something else right now.”

Qui-Gon sat again at the table to drink his coffee (just in case) and tried to focus on what the barista said. She was probably right. Obi-Wan was young, he had lots of other things that could be taking up his time. Just because getting coffee was Qui-Gon's favourite time of the week did not mean the sentiment was reciprocated.

Obi-Wan was probably enjoying time with his friends, or working at home. Maybe he had started dating someone, or had a new hobby.

It could have been any number of innocuous things, and Qui-Gon tried to remind himself that a couple of missed coffees was no reason to be alarmed.

He finished his coffee and headed to his evening class, trying to put Obi-Wan Kenobi to the back of his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all so much for the lovely comments! (I'm sorry you cant all leave more kudos, take it up with the AO3 admins!)

When Obi-Wan was missing for a third week Qui-Gon could no longer placate himself with wishful thinking.

The only useful information Qui-Gon knew about Obi-Wan was the name of the school he worked at. And as he sat down at their usual table, stomach clenching with anxiety, he knew that it was too late to try and contact the school for information. He was going to have to wait until the following day.

He had not seen Obi-Wan in three weeks, he told himself. Whatever the matter was, one more day wasn't going to make a difference.

But the end of his classes the following day could not come quick enough. His last lesson ended early afternoon, and once it was over he was out of the building before any of his students, pausing only briefly to change back into his everyday clothes.

It took Qui-Gon over an hour to navigate to the school Obi-Wan worked at, and on the way he fought to steady his nerves.

There were multiple ways this could go badly. It would be awful if something bad had happened to Obi-Wan, but if it transpired that the young man just had something better to be doing nowadays, how would he react to Qui-Gon showing up at his place of work?

After all, they only met once a week for a short coffee.

Qui-Gon would call them friends, but what if Obi-Wan didn't feel the same? What if he thought Qui-Gon was overstepping his boundaries?

He almost turned back once, just once, thinking maybe he was just being foolish and sentimental.

But the logical part of his mind soon reminded him that Obi-Wan was kind and conscientious, and would not have just disappeared. He would have found some way to let Qui-Gon know if his absence was over something innocuous.

When Qui-Gon pulled up in front of the school his mind was already made up. He needed to know that Obi-Wan was okay.

The front of the school was fortunately vacant of people as he parked up his speeder bike. After removing his helmet, Qui-Gon used his fingers to comb his long hair down to either side of his face, hiding the shaved sides and rings in his ears.

He left his jacket with his speeder, leaving him in a normal beige t-shirt, knowing that an approachable appearance would make this much easier.

Qui-Gon navigated his way to the school's reception with little difficulty, and waited politely as the young blonde woman behind the counter finished a call.

Once finished, she returned the communicator back to its cradle before turning her gaze on Qui-Gon, “Can I help you with something, sir?” she asked in a firm but pleasant voice, her pale blue eyes scanning every inch of him with an interested expression.

“I hope so,” Qui-Gon smiled, “I'm looking for a young man named Obi-Wan Kenobi. He told me he worked here.”

The receptionist's eyes immediately widened when he mentioned Obi-Wan's name, her professional shell melting visibly.

“Oh, Obi? Yes he works here,” she said with a smile, her voice softer. She was obviously fond of Obi-Wan, they must have been friends. They did look to be of similar ages. “And you must be Qui-Gon?”

Qui-Gon's surprise must have been visible on his face because the young woman laughed, “Obi-Wan has spoken of you often,” she explained, and Qui-Gon was no less surprised, “My name's Satine, and I'm afraid you've just missed Obi-Wan.” Her expression turned troubled.

“Is Obi-Wan alright?” Qui-Gon asked, not trying to hide the concern in his voice.

“He signed himself out on Master Yoda's order,” Satine explained, “Only a short while ago. I'm sure he's going home, so you may be able to catch him on his way.”

“Which way would that be?” Qui-Gon naturally had no idea where Obi-Wan lived, or which way he would be walking.

Satine directed him towards Obi-Wan's route without explicitly telling him where he lived, which he understood. He thanked her quickly but graciously.

“I hope we can meet under better circumstances next time,” she told him with a smile as he turned to leave. “I have a lot of questions!”

Qui-Gon walked as quickly as he could back to his speeder without breaking into a run. He didn't even spare the time to put his jacket or helmet on, leaving them in their storage compartments as he started up the engine and drove out in the direction Satine had pointed him.

The sky overhead had turned a foreboding grey, and in the back of his mind Qui-Gon hoped the rain held off long enough for him to find Obi-Wan and get somewhere dry.

The roads were mercifully quiet as he drove, and he was able to keep an eye out for Obi-Wan, but he was fraught with worry that he might miss the young man, and then what? He didn't actually know Obi-Wan's final destination so it was not beyond the realms of possibility that he may not find him today.

But Qui-Gon needn't have worried; he spotted the young man just as he was turning into one of the large parks.

Of course Qui-Gon couldn't take his bike in there, so he quickly set down in one of the parking bays, painfully aware that every second he wasted was time in which Obi-Wan could disappear again.

He allowed himself to run this time, across the roadway and in through the park gates, where he paused to pull himself up to his full height and look around for Obi-Wan.

For a few terrifying heartbeats he didn't see him, then he spotted the auburn hair he was looking for. Obi-Wan was walking away briskly on one of the smaller paths.

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon called for him without thinking, and let out a frustrated sigh when Obi-Wan did not turn. He was too far away to hear.

Qui-Gon used his long stride to catch up to Obi-Wan quickly, feeling the spits of cold rain against his face as he approached the young man.

“Obi-Wan?” This time Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks, his shoulders tensing, before he slowly turned.

“Qui-Gon?” his voice was rough and disbelieving, and Qui-Gon's heart sank when Obi-Wan fully turned towards him. He looked terrible.

There were shadows so dark around his eyes they looked bruised, and his skin was pale enough to look sickly. His beard showed a lack of recent grooming and his clothes hung off his frame limply.

“Obi-Wan, what has happened?” Qui-Gon took a step closer to Obi-Wan, afraid that he may collapse at any moment, a sentiment that was not far from the truth.

When Obi-Wan only lowered his eyes and didn't reply, Qui-Gon tried again, “Obi-Wan, are you okay?” his voice was soft, fully of worry, and his gentle tone was all it took for Obi-Wan's face to crumple with a sudden sob.

Qui-Gon was paralysed with shock as Obi-Wan pulled his hands to his face and sobbed in earnest, but only for a moment. He quickly closed the distance between them and pulled Obi-Wan into a tight embrace, worry crawling across his skin. What had happened to his young friend?

Seconds later the sky opened and fat drops of rain set about soaking them through.

“I'm sorry,” Obi-Wan's voice was muffled in his hands, but Qui-Gon heard him.

“You don't need to apologise,” Qui-Gon told him, rubbing a hand down his back. He loosened his embrace when Obi-Wan quelled his crying and lowered his hands, giving him the chance to pull away. But Obi-Wan only slipped his arms around Qui-Gon's waist and rested his forehead against his shoulder.

“What has happened?” Qui-Gon asked again, voice quiet. He could feel Obi-Wan trembling against him.

The young man took a long moment to reply, “Everything just happened at once,” he admitted, “Someone else moved out, so money is too tight. I've worked every hour I can but it's not enough. I failed one of my papers because I didn't have the time to work on it, and if I don't pass the make up paper I might not get the grades I need to...to...” His breath hitched again. “My friends are moving away, the children misbehave _all the time_ and my tutors wont let up for a single second and- and--”

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon could feel that Obi-Wan had worked himself up into a panic, “Obi-Wan, listen to me,” he slid a hand up to the back of Obi-Wan's neck, encouraging him to lift his head. Obi-Wan was fighting for breath as he met Qui-Gon's eyes, skin pale and clammy under his hand.

“You need to breathe,” Qui-Gon told him gently, using his best soothing tone. “With me.” He inhaled deeply through his nose, encouraging Obi-Wan to do the same, and exhaled slowly through his mouth.

It took a minute or so, but Obi-Wan eventually managed to match his breathing to Qui-Gon's, and his tight grip on the back of Qui-Gon's shirt loosened. The pouring rain around them helped isolate them from any other noises, and they stayed breathing in unison for a couple minutes more until Obi-Wan was ready to stop.

“You were really worried?” Obi-Wan finally asked, voice barely more than a whisper, eyes averting down towards Qui-Gon's collar.

“I was,” Qui-Gon told him, sliding his hand from Obi-Wan's neck to sweep his thumb across the young man's cheek. It was dawning on him just _how_ worried he had actually been.

“I'm sorry,” Obi-Wan repeated, looking thoroughly miserable, especially so since the rain had plastered his hair to his head. He lifted his eyes to Qui-Gon's again after a moment, “I'm so sorry for making you worry.”

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's weight shift forward, the young man leaning up on his toes. He wasn't quite tall enough to get all the way, but it was close enough for Qui-Gon to see what he was offering. It wasn't hesitation that made him pause, but consideration to make sure Obi-Wan didn't change his mind. But when the young man didn't back off, Qui-Gon lowered his head to close the distance between them, meeting Obi-Wan's mouth with a gentle kiss.

It was short and chaste, but when they pulled away Obi-Wan was blushing and stuttering to find words. His eyes were suddenly wide and full of guilt.

“A-ah. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-- You didn't have to--”

Rather than than listen to Obi-Wan try and apologise further, Qui-Gon simply kissed him again to reassure him. After a moment of evident surprise, Obi-Wan relax against him. When he pulled away Qui-Gon was glad to see the younger man wearing a small, relieved smile.

“We should probably get out of this rain,” Qui-Gon finally said when no words seemed forthcoming from Obi-Wan. “My swoop is nearby; let's get you home.”

He took Obi-Wan's silence as agreement and turned to lead him from the park, noting when the younger man fell into step close beside him. Qui-Gon hesitated a moment before putting his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan immediately leaned into the gesture and tucked himself against Qui-Gon's side, obviously craving the comfort. He was calmer now, but his heart was still troubled.

Qui-Gon would wait until they were in the dry before trying to offer council.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This long scene has been split in two, so the next chapter will follow right on from this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes up right where the previous chapter left off.

“I have never ridden a speeder before,” Obi-Wan confessed immediately as they stepped up beside the bike. “Is it safe?” He was regarding the speeder with a dubious expression.

Qui-Gon chuckled and reached into the compartment for his helmet, “Just hold onto me and you'll be fine,” he assured Obi-Wan before depositing the helmet on the younger man's head. Obi-Wan looked up at him through the visor as Qui-Gon's fingers found the buttons to adjust the size. “How does that feel?”

“It's okay. What will you wear?”

“I'll be fine,” Qui-Gon dismissed, checking to make sure the helmet really was secure before turning to swing a leg over his speeder. He pressed a button near the handles and a pair of passenger footholds shot down. “Put your feet in those and hold onto me.”

Obi-Wan climbed into the bike awkwardly, taking a moment to get his feet in the holds then hesitated before putting his arms around Qui-Gon's waist. It wasn't like Qui-Gon could see him blushing behind him under the helmet anyway.

Which he was extra thankful for when he realised that Qui-Gon was only wearing a t-shirt that had been soaked through by the rain. Consequently Obi-Wan could feel every strong muscle of Qui-Gon's abdomen under his hands.

“Ready?”

With Obi-Wan's agreement, Qui-Gon started up the speeder and slowly drove back out onto the road. He stayed slow whilst Obi-Wan got used to the movement, feeling the younger man adjust his hold and position a little, but once he had resettled Qui-Gon accelerated.

Obi-Wan found the ride exhilarating, even at the relatively slow speeds of the residential areas, and all too soon for his liking he was directing Qui-Gon to the parking units outside his shared house.

“Bant wont be home until much later,” Obi-Wan said as Qui-Gon helped him off with the helmet. The Mon Calamari was the only one of his housemates left, and she had a vastly different schedule to Obi-Wan, so most of the time it was just him alone in the house.

Obi-Wan lead the way in, Qui-Gon on his heels closely. The house was thankfully warm as they stepped in, the automatic lights illuminating the front hall, and Qui-Gon shut the door behind them.

Obi-Wan removed his soaked coat and bag and hung them on pegs in the hall, before quickly pulling off his saturated boots.

“Come on, kitchen is this way. I'll make us some tea,” Obi-Wan wasn't looking at Qui-Gon, his melancholy returning at being back in the too-empty house where he had known nothing but stress for the past weeks.

The lights had just flickered to life in the kitchen when Qui-Gon caught Obi-Wan gently by the arm, “Go get a warm shower and some dry clothes, before you get ill,” he commanded in a soft voice. Obi-Wan was still dripping wet, his soaked hair falling into his face as he turned to look up at Qui-Gon.

“But--”

“Go, I'm sure I can figure out how to make the tea myself,” Qui-Gon gave him a warm smile, and Obi-Wan's expression softened before he nodded stepped back towards the door.

“Oh! There's...um...towels, in the cupboard,” Obi-Wan stopped in the doorway, looking back at Qui-Gon's equally-drenched form with just-realised guilt. “I don't think I have any clothes that would fit you...”

“It's fine, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon assured him, waving a hand to tell him he should go. “Go get warm.”

Whilst he waited for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon grabbed a towel and set about drying himself off as best he could.

There's was nothing he could do about his trousers (he was not about to disrobe completely in a strange house), but he quickly divested himself of his boots and set them by a heater to dry out. He then peeled off his shirt with a grimace, wringing out what he could of the rain into the sink before putting that onto the heater. Hopefully it would be dry before he had to leave.

He used the towel to squeeze the water out of his long hair, leaving it where it fell either side of his face, then added the damp towel onto the heater with his shirt.

After a bit of searching, Qui-Gon found the tea leaves and a kettle to boil water, and set about trying to make the promised tea. It was not a blend he was used to, but it couldn't be that different to the one he usually drank, surely?

Qui-Gon heard Obi-Wan's footsteps on the stairs just as he poured the tea into cups for them. He turned to greet Obi-Wan, glad to see the young man in warm, comfortable clothes, cheeks still flushed and hair still wet from the shower.

“Feeling better?”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He couldn't seem to get his brain to work properly as he stared at Qui-Gon, barefoot and bare-chested, stood in his kitchen like it was nothing odd.

It certainly felt surreal to Obi-Wan.

“Oh-- um--” Obi-Wan coughed and ducked his head to hide his blush as he stepped further into the room, “yes, thank you.” Despite his embarrassment, he _did_ want his tea, and Qui-Gon handed it to him with an amused expression.

He had noticed Obi-Wan's reaction.

“Let's sit, and you can tell me where you've been for the last three weeks,” Qui-Gon suggested, but Obi-Wan had his own idea.

“First, why don't you tell me why your hair is like that?” The question had been bugging Obi-Wan since the moment he had turned to see Qui-Gon in the park.

Qui-Gon looked a little surprised at the question, before his expression turned amused, “I went to your school to find you,” he said, as though that explained everything. Which it did, because Obi-Wan's eyes immediately widened.

“Y-you went--” he looked stunned, and Qui-Gon's face flickered with concern.

“I didn't mean to violate your privacy,” Qui-Gon said quickly, “I had no other way to find you. And I _was_ worried.”

“No, it's all right, honestly,” Obi-Wan allowed himself a smile that was half relief and half disbelief. That expression quickly died to horror when he realised, “You spoke to Satine.”

Qui-Gon nodded, smiling curiously at Obi-Wan's dread-filled expression, “I did.”

“Did she...uh...say anything?” he cleared his throat, aware that his face was giving off heat like a furnace. Satine was one of the few people he had talked to about Qui-Gon. About how much he enjoyed meeting with him, how it was the best part of his week, how _handsome_ he was…

“She only directed me how to find you,” Qui-Gon's eyes sparkled with endless amusement at Obi-Wan's expense. “What else would she have said?”

Obi-Wan hesistated, before trying to bluff, “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”

By Qui-Gon's expression he knew the older man knew exactly the type of things Satine might have divulged had circumstances been different.

“I'll have to thank her next time I see her,” he tried to continue like he wasn't blushing, aware he would have to bribe Satine not to say anything embarrassing to Qui-Gon if they ever met again. She did so love teasing him.

In an effort to end the embarrassing conversation, Obi-Wan lifted his tea to his mouth to take a much-anticipated drink.

And almost spat it back out.

“Force, Qui-Gon! Did you even let the leaves look at the water?”

After trying his own vaguely bitter cup of hot water, Qui-Gon concluded Obi-Wan preferred the type of tea that needed to steep for a while.

Obi-Wan remade the tea, his heated cheeks cooling as he got to mock-grumble at Qui-Gon, taking pleasure in not being flustered by the man for once. Qui-Gon took it in good spirits, and offered his apologies, deferring to Obi-Wan's superior tea-making skills.

With freshly steeped tea poured into cups, they finally made their way over to the seating area.

Obi-Wan took a seat on a couch that had seen better days, and Qui-Gon took a seat next to him less than an arms length away.

There was a silence filled by Obi-Wan's returning anxiety, but Qui-Gon waited with patient understanding for him to speak when he was ready.

“It just all snowballed really quickly,” Obi-Wan sighed, looking down into his tea as he spoke. “Rex moved back in with his brothers a while back, but we figured we could handle the rent ourselves for a little while. Then Garen got a new job with Offworld and… it's been just Bant and I for weeks now, and we barely scraped enough together for last month's rent.” He pressed his lips together in a tight line.

“Have you looked for other housemates?” Qui-Gon asked gently, giving Obi-Wan his full attention.

Obi-Wan nodded, “Everywhere we can. And we've had some interest, but no one that wants to move in right away. Bant and I have taken every bit of work we can get our hands on, but we've barely had enough spare to feed ourselves,” he hated to admit that to Qui-Gon, and he quickly moved on. “And we've hardly even seen each other the last couple weeks.”

Obi-Wan had spoken often of his friends, and whilst Qui-Gon had never met them, he could guess how much losing their company had affected Obi-Wan. The isolation must have compounded all his other stresses exponentially.

“I've tried to make time to study, but...” Obi-Wan shook his head before lifting his cup to his mouth, taking a shaking sip of the hot tea, “I've been missing deadlines, and then… failing that paper...” It felt like his world was falling down around his ears.

“I know the Masters have been keeping an eye on me. I've been trying not to let it affect my work but… Master Yoda told me to go home today. He told me I looked too unwell to watch the children.” He was probably right, and that stung more than anything.

Obi-Wan put his tea down on the low table before him so he could put his face into his hands, “I feel like I'm letting everyone down,” he said down to the floor, voice filled with anguish.

Qui-Gon moved closer to Obi-Wan to slip an arm over his shoulders, “The situation you're in is not of your doing,” he assured him gently. “You can only manage it as best you can, and you should not neglect your health in the interim.”

He felt more than heard Obi-Wan let out a shuddering breath, “You should ask those around you for help when you need it, Obi-Wan. Have you spoken to your landlord?”

Obi-Wan lowered his hands from his face but didn't lift his head, “No…not yet. There never seems to be any time--”

“Make time,” Qui-Gon said firmly. “And have you spoken to your mentors to tell them you're struggling?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, cheeks heating, “I couldn't-- I shouldn't get special treatment just because of personal situations. It's my fault if I can't manage the workload.”

It was Qui-Gon's turn to sigh, “You're not a droid, Obi-Wan. Things beyond your control are going to affect you, and relying on the compassion of others is not a weakness.” He met Obi-Wan's gaze with reassurance when the younger man turned his head to look at him.

Obi-Wan could feel the tension easing from him as he digested Qui-Gon's wisdom, and he couldn't help the relieved smile that crept onto his face. Qui-Gon leaned in to press a fond kiss to Obi-Wan's hair before moving back so he could pick up his tea again, taking a long drink from the still-warm liquid.

“Life will not always be easy,” Qui-Gon reiterated, “especially when you're still learning. You must learn to prioritise the things you can control.” He cast a sidelong look to Obi-Wan before adding, “You're health should be top of that list.”

“You sound like you're speaking from experience,” Obi-Wan commented, sitting back out of his hunched position and rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness.

Qui-Gon made a non-committal noise and drank more of his tea in lieu of an answer, before he changed the subject.

“I'd like to meet you at the coffee shop again.”

It really was the thing Qui-Gon looked forward to most each week, “My treat. I insist,” he added when he saw the faint flush of shame rise on Obi-Wan's cheeks.

“I--” Obi-Wan was clearly torn. He didn't want to let Qui-Gon pay for him, but he _did_ want to keep seeing him. But he knew there was no way he could currently afford the expensive coffee. He tried to keep Qui-Gon's words in mind, _'relying on the compassion of others is not a weakness'._

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan smiled and nodded, “I would like that. A lot.”

\- - -

Qui-Gon stayed for one more cup of tea (it was delicious when made correctly) before it became time for him to leave.

“Here,” he used a pen and a pad on the table before them to write a series of numbers and letter, “this is my communicator code. Just in case.” He paused, about to set the pen down, before he added another few lines, “And this is my address, if you ever have need for it.”

Obi-Wan tried not to look surprised at the address, a feeling of warmth settling in his stomach that Qui-Gon would trust him with the information.

Qui-Gon stood then, walking to the heater to retrieve his shirt and shoes. After pulling on the thankfully dry shirt he was surprised by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist from behind, Obi-Wan pressing against his back.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said sincerely, resting his cheek against the warm fabric between Qui-Gon's shoulder blades, “You've been really too kind.”

Arms around his stomach, Obi-Wan felt when Qui-Gon exhaled a soft laugh, “It was my impression that is what friends do for each other,” Qui-Gon said as he turned, resting his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders and looking down at him with a smile.

“Well, than I'm grateful to have made a friend like you, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan leaned up to press a kiss to the tall man's cheek before stepping back a little.

After a moment of indecision, Obi-Wan stepped back in and lifted his hands to Qui-Gon's hair, using his fingers to comb it back off his face. At first Qui-Gon was confused, but still lowered his head to give Obi-Wan access. Then he realised the young man was combing his hair back into it's usual style.

“You couldn't go back out like that,” Obi-Wan laughed when he was done, stepping back to admire the view, “You didn't look like you.”

Qui-Gon's boots and socks were mostly dry when he slipped his feet back into them, and Obi-Wan walked him to the front door.

“So next week, same table?” Obi-Wan asked as Qui-Gon stepped outside. The younger man was shifting on his feet, feeling suddenly awkward saying goodbye to Qui-Gon like this.

“I look forward to it,” Qui-Gon agreed, waiting a moment for Obi-Wan to say more, before nodding a goodbye and turning towards the parking unit. Fortunately it had stopped raining now, but there was a chill in the air.

“Qui-Gon wait!”

As Qui-Gon turned he found his arms suddenly full and warm hands on his face pulling him down into firm kiss. Qui-Gon barely paused a moment before wrapping his arms tight around Obi-Wan, closing his eyes as he felt Obi-Wan's arms slide over his shoulders to pull him closer.

He had wondered if Obi-Wan would want to repeat their kiss in the park.

The kiss this time was long and sure, Obi-Wan's fingers curling into Qui-Gon's hair as he pressed up against the length of his body. It was a little clumsy, and they both breathed laughs when they read each other's signals wrong, but it was _good_ and neither felt inclined to end it.

“Is this okay?” Obi-Wan asked after they finally pulled back just a little way. He looked up at Qui-Gon with flushed cheeks and a smile on his lips.

“Yes, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon was sure he looked the same, “It's just fine.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments and encouragements. This story is around 18 000 words in it's a completed form, so we've got 2, maybe three chapters left :O

After two days Qui-Gon's communicator beeped with an unknown number. He answered it curiously, and Obi-Wan's voice came out immediately, almost speaking over Qui-Gon's greeting.

“A week is too long,” he said bluntly, sounding like he was annoyed but Qui-Gon knew it wasn't at him.

“I agree.”

The moment Qui-Gon had driven away after the last, lingering, hard-to-pull-away-from goodbye kiss with Obi-Wan he had realised he really didn't want to wait a week to see him again.

“How about tomorrow?” Obi-Wan's voice was hopeful. From the ambient noises, and the time, Qui-Gon guessed Obi-Wan must have been walking home from work.

“Tomorrow would be good. I'll be a little later than usual.” Qui-Gon informed him, nodding to the students that had just started filing into the room for his next lesson.

“That's fine,” Obi-Wan remembered what Qui-Gon had said about his teaching schedule. Their usual day was the only one he didn't work during the day. “Okay. Yes, good. That's good. Tomorrow.”

“I'll see you tomorrow, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said with humour in his voice, cutting off Obi-Wan's vague rambling.

“Yes. See you tomorrow.”

\- - -

Obi-Wan got to the coffee shop at his usual time and ordered his usual drink. But when he came to pay (he had scraped a few spare credits together) he was informed by the barista that it was already taken care of.

“Mister Jinn left a message that under no circumstances are you allowed to pay for anything,” the humanoid female, Cerasi, grinned at Obi-Wan with familiarity. Obi-Wan had come to know all the baristas over his time there, and they were all more than happy to tease him. They were also all relieved to see him return in good spirits.

“He also said we should give you something to eat,” Cerasi added, placing a sandwich next to Obi-Wan's coffee and watched as Obi-Wan blushed and squirmed in embarrassment.

“You-- you don't have to...” Obi-Wan didn't know what to say. Qui-Gon wasn't there to argue with, and Cerasi was watching him with obvious amusement.

“Hey, I'm just doing as I'm told. You don't have to have the sandwich, but I'll just have to throw it away and Mister Jinn will still pay for it.”

As much as he begrudged Qui-Gon paying for it, Obi-Wan did eat the sandwich. He was trying to take better care of himself, but money was still tight and considering that he was _always_ hungry even on a normal day, Obi-Wan was eating far less than he would prefer.

Qui-Gon turned up about half an hour later than usual, and Obi-Wan's face lit up the moment he saw him.

Rather than get his drink first, Qui-Gon went straight to Obi-Wan, leaning over and waiting for him to lift his face so he could kiss him. Like it was their normal way of greeting.

Not that Obi-Wan minded, but he knew he was blushing even after the briefest of contact.

“I see my message was received,” Qui-Gon noted the empty plate as he shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the opposite chair.

“Oh, yes. Thank you. But you really don't--” Obi-Wan started, but stopped when Qui-Gon shook his head.

“I would rest better knowing you're eating enough,” he assured him, and Obi-Wan could only smile gratefully as Qui-Gon then excused himself to get his drink.

Obi-Wan packed his datapads and notebooks away as Qui-Gon queued. In the time he spent waiting he had been able to catch up on a lot his studying, and was relieved at how easy it had come to him. No doubt due entirely to the alleviation of his stress.

Qui-Gon returned with his coffee, as well as Obi-Wan's usual second drink, and a sweet pastry, which he pushed across the table.

“Qui-Gon!” Obi-Wan tried to sound admonishing, but Qui-Gon didn't look repentant in the slightest.

“I said this was my treat, and it's good to see you studying again,” Qui-Gon told him, sitting down in the chair, his feet coming to rest against Obi-Wan's under the small table.

Obi-Wan sighed, trying too look like he was annoyed, but a grateful smile broke his expression soon enough, “Thank you.”

“How are you feeling now?” Qui-Gon asked casually, but Obi-Wan knew he was genuinely concerned.

“Better,” Obi-Wan answered honestly with a smile, pulling apart the pastry to occupy his hands, “I asked Master Windu for an extension on my next essay, and he said it was fine. Made me feel rather stupid for not asking sooner, actually.” Obi-Wan laughed, looking to Qui-Gon and seeing fond amusement in his eyes.

“And your rent?”

“Still the same,” Obi-Wan took a bite of the pastry to stall any further talk, trying to keep the worry off his face even if he couldn't keep it out of his heart.

Obi-Wan didn't see Qui-Gon reach over and started in surprise when he took his hand, long fingers curling around his palm.

“Have you heard from your friends?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan's demeanour immediately brightened. Qui-Gon had recommended Obi-Wan get in contact with the housemates that had left so he wouldn't feel so isolated. Obi-Wan missed his friends terribly, and even though he and Bant tried to eke out what ever little time they could get together, it wasn't often.

“Oh! Yes, actually--”

Obi-Wan spent the rest of their time there speaking of his friends, telling Qui-Gon all about Garen's work-placement training, and Rex's new ventures with his brothers.

Qui-Gon listened with quiet encouragement, enjoying how animated Obi-Wan got when he was speaking about his friends. It was nice to see the young man's face lighting up with pride as he told Qui-Gon of his friend's achievements.

They drank their drinks, and finished off the pastry between them, and before long it was time to to go home.

“Would you like a lift?” Qui-Gon offered as he got to his feet and pulled his jacket on; offering like he didn't already know the answer. He hadn't failed to notice how exhilarated Obi-Wan had looked after the last ride.

Obi-Wan's face lit up at the prospect, “Yes, please, if that's okay?” He tried not to sound too excited and was certain he failed.

Qui-Gon simply nodded with an amused smile and lead the way out.

The look on Obi-Wan's face was worth the credits he had spent when the younger man realised Qui-Gon had bought a second helmet just for him. Again Qui-Gon helped him on with it, and Obi-Wan couldn't stop grinning out through the visor.

Once Qui-Gon had swung his leg over the swoop, Obi-Wan climbed on behind, wrapping his arms around Qui-Gon's waist without hesitation.

And if Obi-Wan noticed that Qui-Gon had taken a detour or two to prolong the journey, he certainly didn't mention it.

When they finally, regretfully, pulled up outside Obi-Wan's home Qui-Gon turned the motor off but didn't climb off the bike. They both recognised it as a sign that he couldn't stay, as much as he would want to if Obi-Wan offered. It was late, and they both had work in the morning.

However that did mean he had to reach _up_ to help Obi-Wan take the helmet off, and meant that, standing, Obi-Wan was for once taller than Qui-Gon.

Which made it considerably easier to kiss him when he didn't have to stand on tiptoes. And after he had relieved Qui-Gon of his own helmet he did just that, fingers touching under Qui-Gon's chin to tilt his head up.

The angle was a little odd with Qui-Gon sat astride the bike, but even still the kiss was not chaste in the slightest. Obi-Wan tangled his fingers into Qui-Gon's hair and dominated the kiss, tasting him thoroughly before pulling back.

“Usual time next time?” Obi-Wan asked when they finally pulled apart, resting his forehead against Qui-Gon's. Obi-Wan was flushed and breathing heavy, whereas Qui-Gon looked as serene as ever save for redness to his mouth.

Obi-Wan couldn't help wondering just what it would take to break that cool composure.

“I look forward to it,” Qui-Gon's voice was a murmur before he leaned up to press another, briefer kiss to Obi-Wan's lips, then pulled back properly to put his helmet back on.

It took Obi-Wan a good few seconds to realise Qui-Gon had been agreeing to the next coffee date and not what Obi-Wan had been _thinking_ about.

At least, he assumed so.

Obi-Wan waved as Qui-Gon revved the speeder and took off into the night, then turned towards his house with a disappointed sigh.

An expression that was completely erased when he saw Bant staring out at him from the kitchen, the Mon Calamari's face pressed against the window in a picture of excited delight.

\- - -

After that they began to meet twice a week for coffee, and Obi-Wan was able to use the time he spent waiting for Qui-Gon to catch up on his studies. He was soon back on track with his work, and after a few weeks they finally found another house mate.

“That's good news,” Qui-Gon commented when Obi-Wan told him. Qui-Gon had sensed a relaxation in Obi-Wan that he hadn't realised had been missing until Obi-Wan had told him of the development.

“That means I can start paying for my own coffee now,” Obi-Wan laughed, but there was a tinge of embarrassment to the words.

Qui-Gon just shook his head with a smile, “I wouldn't hear of it.”

Obi-Wan tried to argue, but Qui-Gon plied him with the same reasoning as before, “I would feel better knowing you were eating,” they both knew that Obi-Wan wouldn't buy himself food if he was paying for himself, “And you deserve to be rewarded for working hard.”

If he had been able to blush any harder, Obi-Wan would have done so, “That doesn't mean you have to…”

“Who else?” Qui-Gon had won, he knew, and he reached out to take Obi-Wan's hand, pressing a fond kiss to his fingers “It _is_ my right, yes?”

Because they were...what? They hadn't quite gotten around to labelling their relationship, not that it really needed labelling. They were _in_ a relationship, that was all Obi-Wan really needed to know.

But when it came to referring to each other, he really didn't know what to call Qui-Gon.

Satine asked him about his 'giant boyfriend' every day, but that was just good-natured teasing. They were both too old to actually use that term.

Partner?

Significant other?

They hadn't quite progressed to 'lovers', yet. And that term always seem a little too detail-laden for Obi-Wan's tastes.

He supposed they would just stick to names for now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left after this one (the rating will go up, so be warned)!

“You look tired, Obi-Wan.”

It was a few weeks later, and after Qui-Gon returned to the table with their drinks, it was the first thing he said.

Obi-Wan tried not to shift uncomfortably, knowing Qui-Gon's keen gaze would see immediately if he lied.

“The new house mate had some friends over last night,” Obi-Wan sighed. They had stayed up late into the night, making lots of noise, and Obi-Wan had not gotten a lot of sleep.

Qui-Gon frowned, “Did you speak to him about it?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “Not yet. He wasn't awake when I left this morning.” It was not the first time it had happened, just the first time his fatigue had been noticed by Qui-Gon. He really didn't like worrying him. “But I will, when I get home tonight,” he insisted.

He smiled then, and attempted to change the subject. They both knew it was an obvious divergent, but Qui-Gon let him and they were soon discussing Qui-Gon's friend, Tahl. It turned out she would soon be visiting Obi-Wan's school to talk to the children about disability awareness.

“She's very good with children,” Qui-Gon commented, “So I think you'll like her.”

They then spent a few minutes fondly arguing about the 'accidental' insult Qui-Gon had just levied.

Still, Obi-Wan had to fight to contain his excitement about meeting one of Qui-Gon's friends. Qui-Gon knew all about Obi-Wan's small social group, but Qui-Gon rarely talked about any of his own friends.

He looked forward to grilling her for information on Qui-Gon as a young man. And maybe some pictures if Obi-Wan was lucky.

All too soon Qui-Gon had to leave for his evening class.

As usual, Obi-Wan stood for a goodbye kiss, sneaking his hands up under Qui-Gon's jacket as the taller man leaned down. Chaste but lingering (they were in public, after all), Obi-Wan considered it the only good thing about Qui-Gon leaving.

“Until next time,” Qui-Gon murmured their usual farewell, but they both knew Obi-Wan would probably call him on his communicator before their next coffee. Never to talk about anything of import, just to hear each other's voice at the end of a long day. It was nice.

“Until then.”

\- - -

Qui-Gon's drive home after his evening class took him back past the coffee shop. It stayed open late, so the lights were always on as he drove past. Often he would glance in, looking over to the table he and Obi-Wan shared and remembering whatever they had talked about that day.

Obi-Wan was always long-gone, of course. He had never once seen the young man in there on his drive home.

Until that night.

Obi-Wan was the only one left in the coffee shop, and the baristas were already starting to flip the chairs up onto the tables near the back of the shop.

Qui-Gon pulled over immediately, hardly able to climb off his swoop fast enough, knowing something must be far more wrong than Obi-Wan had let on earlier. He could guess it had something to do with the new house mate.

“Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan couldn't have looked more shocked if Qui-Gon had shouted at the top of his voice, and he visibly started at his voice.

“Qui-- I--” Obi-Wan didn't know what to say, flushing in shame. He hadn't realised that Qui-Gon also drove home past the shop. He hadn't want him to know…

“You don't want to go home,” Qui-Gon dragged up a chair to sit next to him, knees touching the side of Obi-Wan's seat. There was no judgement in his voice, even as Obi-Wan squirmed with discomfort.

Qui-Gon cursed himself for not having seen it sooner.

“He's… very hostile,” Obi-Wan admitted. He hadn't told Qui-Gon how he and his new house mate, Bruck, had taken an immediate dislike to each other. He hadn't want to worry Qui-Gon, or to make him think that he had _yet another_ problem he was finding it difficult to deal with.

“I've tried to remain civil, but he seems to go out of his way to make my life a misery,” Obi-Wan sighed. Some missing possessions and disturbed sleep hadn't been quite enough to really bother Obi-Wan before, but it was clear now that it was starting to get him.

He was putting off going back to his own home. That wasn't right.

“Do you know why?” Qui-Gon asked with concern.

Obi-Wan shook his head, “I honestly don't.”

They just didn't see eye to eye about anything, and rather than just leave it alone, Bruck always wanted to argue. He was fine with Bant, as long as she stayed out of the arguments, so Obi-Wan had no idea what he had done to deserve Bruck's ire.

Obi-Wan fidgeted with his datapad briefly before checking the time, “I suppose I have to go home eventually.”

“Or you could stay with me tonight,” Qui-Gon offered, meeting Obi-Wan's surprised gaze evenly, “I have a guest room, you're welcome to it.”

Obi-Wan didn't know what to say, but the feeling of relief in his chest told him not to decline the offer.

“I… are you sure?” Obi-Wan asked softly, and couldn't help smiling when Qui-Gon nodded with a warm smile of his own.

“I can drive you to work in the morning,” he added, standing up and offering a hand to Obi-Wan. He was sure the baristas wanted to close now, so it was time they left.

Obi-Wan packed his things away into his bag before slipping his hand into Qui-Gon's, letting him lead him from the coffee shop after they bid farewell to the staff.

They did stop off briefly at Obi-Wan's house so he could pick up a change of clothes for the next day, and Qui-Gon followed him in despite Obi-Wan's insistence that he would only be a couple of minutes. He waited downstairs whilst Obi-Wan ran upstairs to his room.

In the three minutes it took Obi-Wan to pack an overnight bag and scribble a note to Bant, Qui-Gon located Bruck in the kitchen and proceeded to stare him down without speaking a word.

Dressed in his riding leathers, long hair pushed back down over his neck, Qui-Gon knew just how intimidating he could look when he wanted.

Bruck certainly looked uncomfortable, pressing back against the kitchen counter across the room, not uttering a noise after his initial query of, “Who the hell are you?”

“Okay, I'm ready,” Obi-Wan rushed down from the stairs clutching a bag in one hand, stepping into the kitchen when he didn't immediately see Qui-Gon.

“Oh, hi Bruck,” Obi-Wan's voice betrayed every bit of his disappointment at seeing his house mate. If he thought there was anything amiss about the palpable miasma of tension in the room, he didn't bring it up, and instead reached up to take Qui-Gon's hand.

“I'm ready to go now,” he repeated, and Qui-Gon's fierce posture immediately melted as he looked to Obi-Wan, following him out without a single glance back at Bruck.

“You didn't have to do that,” Obi-Wan said once they were outside. Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow at him like he didn't know what Obi-Wan meant.

Obi-Wan laughed, bumping Qui-Gon gently, “I didn't realise how scary you can look when you want to,” he admitted, “I'm glad you've never looked at _me_ like that.”

“I'm sure I have no idea what you're referring to,” Qui-Gon maintained, but there was amusement in his eyes.

\- - -

As much as Obi-Wan enjoyed riding pinion with his arms wrapped around Qui-Gon's middle, he was glad that Qui-Gon took the direct route back to his home.

It was late and he really was _so_ tired.

Qui-Gon drove him to a pleasant residential area that was nothing like the student and youth heavy area where Obi-Wan lived.

The parking structure was actually built in to the apartment complex, so they were already inside when they dismounted.

“This is...nice,” Obi-Wan said, looking around at all the other clean and well-maintained vehicles in the lot.

“This is the parking lot,” Qui-Gon said with a laugh, “I would reserve judgement until we're actually inside.”

Of course as they walked through the immaculate and pleasantly decorated foyer, Obi-Wan's opinion didn't change in the slightest. In fact he felt distinctly out of place. Too young. Too poor. Too grubby in his work-soiled trousers and the shirt he was now distinctly aware he had been wearing all day.

(Of course if he'd stopped being so self-conscious, he would have realised by similar factors, Qui-Gon didn't exactly fit in either.)

He was relieved when the turbolift doors closed and the finery didn't feel quite so grand and encompassing.

“Is everything okay, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon had noticed the young man's sudden quietude.

Obi-Wan looked up to him with smile, “Yes. Sorry. It's all just...very nice.” He felt embarrassed now; his own home must appear….dingy by comparison. And he'd taken Qui-Gon there! What he must have thought...

Qui-Gon slipped his hand into Obi-Wan's and squeezed, “You'll get used to it,” he told him, reading his face like an open book.

They stepped off the lift on one of the middle floors, and Qui-Gon lead the way to a door, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. He used one to open the door and stepped in, the automatic lights coming to life as Obi-Wan followed him in.

Obi-Wan peered around and was surprised to see it all looked very...normal. It was decorated in various muted shades, with a flash of colour here and there from the thriving plants placed about. It was open-plan, the front door opening straight into the living area, which then lead back into the kitchen. A doorway lead off from the kitchen and Obi-Wan supposed the rest of the rooms must be through there.

His surprise must have been all over his face because Qui-Gon let out a laugh as he closed the door.

“What were you expecting, Obi-Wan?” he asked as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a rack just inside the door. He toed off his boots, and Obi-Wan did the same, leaving them under the rack.

“I--” Obi-Wan blushed even as he grinned, “Sorry. I don't know. Maybe more…black?” he posited, then went with it, “Some anarchic posters maybe? Various reptiles. At least _one_ illegal weapon in plain view?”

“I'm sorry to disappoint,” the amusement was clear in his voice as Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's bag from him, leading him through the apartment.

“And here I was telling everyone I was dating some rebellious badboy,” Obi-Wan joked in a long-suffering tone, “And you're here living in your perfectly grown-up apartment.”

“You've told people we're dating?” The question effectively derailed Obi-Wan, and he stuttered for an answer. He couldn't tell by Qui-Gon's tone if he was displeased or not.

Noticing the silence, Qui-Gon stopped to look at Obi-Wan curiously. Upon seeing the young man's alarmed expression, Qui-Gon smiled, reaching out to touch his face gently, “I meant nothing by it; it was a genuine question.”

Obi-Wan appeared to deflate in relief, tilting his head into the touch, “I've told my friends, Bant and Garen. Satine figured it out herself. Oh, and Rex. Which probably means all his brothers know as well.”

At the flicker of worry in Obi-Wan's expression, Qui-Gon stepped forward to press a light kiss to his mouth, reassuring him.

“It's okay, Obi-Wan,” he told him, thinking he would do anything to get Obi-Wan to stop doubting himself, “it's not a secret.”

Qui-Gon lead Obi-Wan through the door that the lead off from the kitchen, confirming Obi-Wan's suspicions that there were more rooms there. The first door was a shower and bathroom, the second was Qui-Gon's bedroom. The third was the guest room, and Qui-Gon pushed open the door to reveal a simply-decorated room, with a large bed already made up with linens.

“I hope this is comfortable enough?” Qui-Gon asked as he went and placed Obi-Wan's bag on the bed before stepping back towards the door.

“Qui-Gon this is nicer than my room back home,” Obi-Wan said as he looked around with wide eyes and a smile. The bed was bigger as well.

When he looked back to Qui-Gon, he saw the taller man was regarding him with an unreadable expression.

“Thank you, really,” Obi-Wan added quickly with a bright smile. The last thing he wanted was Qui-Gon feeling sorry for him.

“You're welcome,” Qui-Gon nodded, expression softening with a smile, “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and there are towels in the bathroom if you'd like to shower.”

Obi-Wan nodded his thanks again, and when there were no words forthcoming Qui-Gon lowered his head in a nod.

“Alright. Well, it is late,” he commented, turning to leave, “Goodnight, Obi-Wan.”

“Wait!” Obi-Wan looked startled at his own outburst, but continued regardless. “That's it?”

Qui-Gon looked at him, confusion skipping across his face, “Is there something else?”

Obi-Wan blushed hotly, “Well I just...I thought...you invited me back here...” he was stuttering like an embarrassed teenager, and wished he could just _stop talking_. “I thought you'd want… something else.”

There was a moment of silence as Qui-Gon clearly tried to figure what Obi-Wan was talking about, then his eyebrows practically hit his hairline and Obi-Wan groaned in embarrassment.

Qui-Gon's laughing didn't help ease his humiliation in the slightest.

“It's rather late for that, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon laughed, and Obi-Wan forced himself to look at the man, if only to see his face lit up in that radiant smile he wore when he was honestly amused. “And I would not offer hospitality as a ruse,” he added in a slightly more sober tone.

Obi-Wan blew out a breath, nodding. He knew that, he really did. He didn't know why he still surprised by the depth of Qui-Gon's generosity and kindness.

He crossed the room to wrap his arms around Qui-Gon's middle, embracing him with gratitude and feeling arms around him in turn.

“Thank you,” he said, pouring as much feeling into the words as he could.

“You're quite welcome,” Qui-Gon replied. “But that is not to say my room is off-limits to you, Obi-Wan,” he added sincerely. “For as much, or as little, as you want, my bed is open to you.”

Qui-Gon could feel the heat radiating off Obi-Wan's face against his neck, and he smiled in amusement at his expense.

“I may take you up on that,” Obi-Wan finally gathered himself and pulled out of the embrace, before suddenly stifling a yawn. “But not tonight.”

Qui-Gon nodded his agreement and leaned down to meet Obi-Wan in a short kiss before he straightened and stepped away.

“Good night, Obi-Wan.”

“Good night, Qui-Gon.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay it's the last chapter and the rating has been put up for a reason. Also, it's an extra-long chapter because that's always the best way to end these things, I think.
> 
> I want to thank everyone who has left kudos and commented. I'm so glad you've all been enjoying this self-indulgent little story, and I can't thank you enough for your continued support.
> 
> Until next time!

Obi-Wan awoke with a start in a strange bed that was too big, in a room that didn't smell right, with soft light that was all wrong.

It took him many long seconds to remember where he was and to calm his racing heart, but his skin still prickled with the chill of waking so abruptly. He didn't know why he had started awake so suddenly, perhaps one of his not-uncommon anxiety-ridden dream, but he didn't remember it now.

His bedside alarm told him he had been asleep a handful of hours, and there were still a few more before he had to be up for work.

But lying there in the strange bed, surrounded by unfamiliar objects and a quiet that was suffocating, Obi-Wan knew he would not be able to go back to sleep.

He did try. For over a half hour he attempted to settle down and go back to sleep. He was warm and the bed was very comfortable, and there were no distracting noises to keep him awake. But still, he couldn't shake the disquieted feeling.

The apartment was cool as he climbed out of bed in only his loose-fitting pyjama pants and padded quietly to the door.

It opened without a noise, and he made a beeline for Qui-Gon's door, whereupon he stood there frozen with self-doubt for many long minutes.

Tiredness was clawing behind his eyes; he just wanted to _sleep_. But his stomach twisted itself into an anxious, guilt-ridden knot as he hesitated outside the room.

Eventually he mustered his courage and knocked on Qui-Gon's door quietly, but even that soft noise made him wince with it's loudness in the silent apartment.

Obi-Wan heard movement within, and slowly pushed the ajar door open a little to peer inside.

Qui-Gon had propped himself up on one elbow to look towards the door, his eyes only half-open, obviously barely awake, “Obi-Wan?” he asked, voice rough with sleep, “Is everything okay?”

“I'm sorry,” Obi-Wan felt so guilty for waking him, “I shouldn't have--”

“Come on,” Qui-Gon cut him off before he could offer more needless apologies. He threw back the covers invitingly, before lying back down on his side, clearly not at all perturbed by Obi-Wan's presence.

Obi-Wan hesitated briefly, before stepping in, shutting the door behind himself. He crossed to the large bed, eyeing the space where the covers were pulled back, before climbing into the bed, trying not to move awkwardly.

As soon as Obi-Wan was lying down, a long arm pulled the covers up to his neck and then hooked around his waist. Obi-Wan let out a small, rather undignified squeak as he was pulled up against Qui-Gon, the tall man's knees tucked behind his own, his bare chest to Obi-Wan's back.

“Go to sleep,” Qui-Gon's murmured words tickled the hair at Obi-Wan's neck, and his arm loosened to rest comfortably around Obi-Wan's middle.

After Obi-Wan's racing heart settled, he felt as though he was suffused with a glow that had everything to do with the warm body curled around his back.

All at once this was everything Obi-Wan had ever wanted, and before he realised he had drifted back into an easy sleep.

\- - -

Obi-Wan awoke slowly to warmth and comfort, and it took him a little while to realise why he was waking with such ease.

Waking up usually involved a beeping alarm after too-little sleep, and subsequently a lot of grumbling. Usually chased with a mugful of scalding, bitter coffee.

But something was different this morning.

At some point during the night Obi-Wan had shifted onto his back, and he let his head fall to the side to look at Qui-Gon, who was still fast asleep. His soft breaths blew across Obi-Wan's shoulder, and his arm rested across Obi-Wan's stomach, the weight of it warm and comforting.

Obi-Wan didn't think he had ever woken up to a more reassuring sight. Qui-Gon looked just as peaceful asleep as he did awake, but there was something softer about him now. Awake, there was always an undercurrent of alertness, of vigilance, to his posture. Asleep he was completely unguarded, completely at ease, and Obi-Wan felt the serenity of the man beside him as surely as if it were his own.

Obi-Wan hadn't noticed the night before, but Qui-Gon slept with his hair tied back into bun. It had started to come loose now, and freed strands had worked their way over his face. Obi-Wan lifted a hand to gently push them back with his fingertips, the back of his hand brushing Qui-Gon's cheek.

Blue eyes fluttered open, focussing on Obi-Wan with no particular urgency.

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said quietly, unable to keep the small smile off his face, “I didn't mean to wake you.”

Qui-Gon made a sleepy noise, ducking his head to press a vague kiss to Obi-Wan's shoulder, his beard scratching against Obi-Wan's skin.

“How did you sleep?” Qui-Gon asked when he found his voice, gruff and scratchy from sleep. Obi-Wan felt the arm across his stomach tighten, pulling him closer to Qui-Gon like he weighed nothing.

“Better than I have in a long while,” Obi-Wan admitted, resting his arm over Qui-Gon's, thumb stroking against his bicep. “I hope I didn't disturb you, coming in in the middle of the night?” He looked concerned, and Qui-Gon smiled.

“It was a most welcome disturbance.”

Obi-Wan smiled in relief, “I'm glad you think so _,_ ” he admitted as he rolled half onto his side, hand sliding up Qui-Gon's arm to his shoulder. He felt Qui-Gon's large hand on his back, supporting him as their faces were brought mere inches apart, and he barely paused a moment before finding Qui-Gon's mouth with his own.

At first the kiss was gentle, their positions a little awkward, both waiting for the other to pull back. But when neither of them wanted to break the contact, the kiss began to heat. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to Qui-Gon as the older man pushed him back into a lying position, and wrapped his arms up around Qui-Gon's neck as loosened hair fell around their faces.

Qui-Gon supported himself on his elbows, their bare chests pressed together, and one of his legs slid down between Obi-Wan's.

A gasp was drawn from Obi-Wan unbidden as Qui-Gon's leg brushed over his groin, alerting him to his already half-aroused state. If he hadn't already been tongue-deep in the older man, he might have been embarrassed, but as it was he was already blushing deeply.

They pulled back for breath and Obi-Wan used the pause to reach up and untie the rest of Qui-Gon's bound hair, sending the mass of slightly-tangled strands pooling down around their faces. He gently combed his fingers through it, loosening the knots, smiling when Qui-Gon's eyes closed at the attention.

Obi-Wan noticed that Qui-Gon's cheeks were slightly pinked, his breaths a little heavy, and he could feel his heart beating strong where their chests were pressed together. It was a pleasant surprise to see him actually looking affected.

But Qui-Gon looked rather put-together compared to Obi-Wan's half-ravished sappearance; his cheeks painted in a deep flush, breaths coming in short pants, and his sleep-mussed hair creating a tangled halo around his head.

With Obi-Wan's fingers still in his hair, Qui-Gon lowered his head to press firm kisses to the younger man's neck, delighting in the soft noises it drew from him. Even so early, Obi-Wan was responsive to each touch, and Qui-Gon was fully aware of the younger man's arousal against his leg.

He lifted his head to check the time, and Obi-Wan followed his eye line curiously.

“Oh… I suppose we should get up now...” Obi-Wan couldn't hide his disappointment, hand slipping to Qui-Gon's shoulder.

“We have time,” Qui-Gon corrected, looking back down to Obi-Wan.

“Time for wh--” Obi-Wan's question was cut off by a firm kiss, a hum of pleasure escaping him when Qui-Gon shifted over to settle fully between his legs, their hips rocking together.

Obi-Wan gasped against Qui-Gon's mouth as the steady rocking pace sent sparks of pleasure up his spine, and suddenly Qui-Gon's mouth left him, instead starting a slow path of kisses down his neck and onto his chest.

Obi-Wan took deep breaths as his nailed raked against Qui-Gon's broad back, hips pressing up against Qui-Gon's stomach as the tall man slid down between his legs. Qui-Gon's beard scratched against Obi-Wan's chest as he pressed firm kisses to the heated skin, hands palming up over the young man's flanks.

Qui-Gon looked to Obi-Wan for permission when his hands rested at the waistband of his pyjama pants, and it took Obi-Wan a moment to realise what he was waiting for.

He wasn't used to a partner asking for continued consent. With the few sexual partners he'd had of his own age, the goal had been the quickest route to gratification.

“Please,” if Obi-Wan had been able to blush any deeper he would have at how _desperate_ that one word had sounded.

Although he quickly determined that Qui-Gon's pleased smirk was more than worth it.

Obi-Wan lifted his hips so his pyjama's could be pulled down, and he pulled one leg up so Qui-Gon wouldn't have to move to get the pants off. They soon joined the blankets where they had fallen off the bed onto the floor.

Qui-Gon wasn't shy in the slightest, and Obi-Wan gasped loudly when his arousal was engulfed in the wet heat of Qui-Gon's mouth. One hand fisted in the bedsheets and the other rested on Qui-Gon's hair, fighting not to clutch at the soft strands.

“Ah!” Obi-Wan pressed his head back into the pillow, biting his lip as he tried not to move his hips. He didn't want to think about about accidentally making Qui-Gon gag.

As though sensing his struggling, Qui-Gon pressed an arm across Obi-Wan's hips, easily holding him still as he expertly pleasured him, long hair tickling Obi-Wan's legs.

It was too early for Obi-Wan to last very long, and soon his fingers were curling against Qui-Gon's scalp and his breaths came in stuttering bursts.

“A-ah…Qui-- I--” he was beyond forming sentences as his back arched, the flush of pleasure spreading down his neck and onto his chest. “I-- I'm--”

Qui-Gon pulled back with Obi-Wan's warning, and the younger man gasped at the brief lack of heat before it was replaced with a large, warm hand.

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan's face as he used his hand to bring him to orgasm, the younger man arching off the bed with a desperate keen, fingers gripping Qui-Gon's hair so tight it almost hurt.

The air was filled with Obi-Wan's gasps and soft moans as he rode out the waves of pleasure, his chest heaving with a sheen of sweat. His fingers loosened from Qui-Gon's hair, and the older man moved up, pressing sparse kisses up over Obi-Wan's body finishing with a gentle kiss to his mouth that Obi-Wan was just coherent enough to respond to.

Qui-Gon kissed him softly, hand gently stroking up over Obi-Wan's chest before he pulled away and stood up, leaving Obi-Wan still splayed across the bed.

“Qui?” Obi-Wan wasn't even coherent enough to bother finishing off his name.

“ _Now_ it's time to get up,” Qui-Gon explained with a smile as he fetched the blankets along with Obi-Wan's pants. He pulled the former up over the young man so he could recover in comfort, and set his pants down on the floor within easy reach.

“I'm going to shower, help yourself to anything in the kitchen,” Qui-Gon told Obi-Wan as he headed for the door, “I won't be long.”

Obi-Wan took many minutes to come down from his pleasure-high, hardly able to believe that had actually happened. His grin was utterly incorrigible.

Eventually he did manage to get up, pulling his pants back on as he left Qui-Gon's room. He had every intention of going to the kitchen and getting himself a coffee and something to eat, but as he reached the slightly ajar door to the bathroom he paused.

He was sure Qui-Gon had just left the door slightly open for security reasons, but…

“Does your hospitality also extend to your bathroom?” Obi-Wan stood in the doorway but made it clear he wasn't looking at Qui-Gon, just in case.

“I'm nearly done...” Qui-Gon's voice came slowly over the rush of the shower, and Obi-Wan glanced up to meet Qui-Gon's gaze over the frosted-glass cubicle door that separated them.

“That wasn't what I meant,” Obi-Wan saw the surprised amusement pass across Qui-Gon's face, followed by a nod.

“Then by all means...”

Obi-Wan was already crossing the room, stopping briefly to shimmy back out of his pants, before stepping into the shower cubicle.

He tried not to react too strongly to the sight of Qui-Gon's wet naked body, but was sure he failed.

Qui-Gon was _exquisite;_ all hard angled and firm muscles, and so tall. It wasn't like Obi-Wan wasn't in shape, but Qui-Gon had all the confidence of a man who had complete control over every movement his body made, and knew _just_ how attractive he was.

Still, despite his fluster, Obi-Wan was more than happy to press himself up against Qui-Gon's body. Obi-Wan made a pleased noise at the hot water, his arms looping up over Qui-Gon's neck to pull him down into a firm kiss.

“We don't have an abundance of time,” Qui-Gon murmured against Obi-Wan's lips, large hands stroking down his sides.

“That's okay,” Obi-Wan nipped at Qui-Gon's lip, hands resting on the older man's hips, “This wont take long.”

Without hesitation he pushed Qui-Gon back against the wall, earning himself a surprised huff, before he slipped to his knees.

It took only moments to stroke Qui-Gon to full arousal, at which point Obi-Wan took him into his mouth without preamble. The guttural noise Qui-Gon emitted as his head knocked back against the tiles was unlike anything Obi-Wan had heard before, and his cock jumped in response.

Qui-Gon's finger curled in Obi-Wan's hair as the younger man worked him with practised precision, his hot mouth taking him deeply, splayed hand pressed to his stomach to pin him back against the wall.

“Obi--!”

Obi-Wan hummed around the flesh in his mouth, feeling Qui-Gon's hips twitch in response, and placed his other arm across Qui-Gon's legs to keep him still. He felt the fingers in his hair tighten as Qui-Gon got closer and upped his pace.

Qui-Gon didn't last much longer, and despite his warning Obi-Wan kept his mouth on him as he brought Qui-Gon to his peak. The older man curled over slightly as he orgasmed with a stuttered gasp, brows drawn low, and Obi-Wan worked him through it, swallowing around him.

Qui-Gon pressed back against the wall with a gasp as he rode out the last waves of pleasure, and Obi-Wan pulled back enough to stand and wrap his arms around the older man's neck.

His clear arousal was pressed up against Qui-Gon's hip, and Qui-Gon wrapped a hand around him as he ducked his head to meet Obi-Wan in an open-mouthed kiss.

It didn't take long to draw Obi-Wan to his peak again, and the younger man clutched at Qui-Gon's shoulders as he rode out the spasms of pleasure with soft gasps. He was only just conscious of the scratchy kisses Qui-Gon was pressing to his neck and shoulder.

After they were both sated, they finally got down to actually washing.

Qui-Gon helped wash Obi-Wan's hair because he wanted to, but it ended being easier for Qui-Gon to wash his own hair due to the height difference.

Which Qui-Gon found very amusing, and Obi-Wan just huffed and instead ran the soap over Qui-Gon's broad chest and helped with that instead.

Finally, reluctantly, it was time to leave the shower and dress.

They shared one last lingering kiss before going to separate rooms to dress for the coming day.

By the time Obi-Wan got to the kitchen Qui-Gon already had a coffee, a glass of juice, and a bowl of simple oatmeal ready for him.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan gratefully accepted the breakfast, downing half the juice in one and then picking up his spoon for the porridge, “I could get used to this.”

“You could, if you wanted,” Qui-Gon offered, eyes on Obi-Wan deliberately.

Obi-Wan stared at Qui-Gon, ruminating on what he meant.

“I mean, you would be more than welcome to move in here,” Qui-Gon continued, eyes slipping down to look at the table, and it was so odd to see the older man suddenly not so sure of himself, “You wouldn't have to pay a thing, I already--”

“I can't,” Obi-Wan said softly, voice full of anguished realisation. Of course he _wanted_ to, but, “I couldn't leave Bant like that.”

If he moved out of his current accommodation, his best friend would be left to foot half the rent herself, and he couldn't do that.

Qui-Gon nodded, but the disappointment was in his eyes, “I understand.”

“I really would love to...but...” Obi-Wan sighed, poking the spoon into his porridge.

“It's okay, Obi-Wan. You must do what is right,” Qui-Gon reached across for his hand, “But you are welcome here any time you want,” he insisted, and Obi-Wan met his sincere look with a smile.

They soon had to leave to get Obi-Wan to work in time, and Obi-Wan thought he wouldn't mind every morning starting with clutching to Qui-Gon's firm body as they zoomed through traffic on the slim swoop bike.

Obi-Wan was aware of eyes on them as he climbed off the bike in front of his school. Parents, some late-entry teachers, and children in the playground were all attracted to the revving engine of the bike.

To his credit, Qui-Gon didn't remove his helmet in case Obi-Wan just wanted to say goodbye and leave.

But Obi-Wan was having none of that. His morning had been too amazing to just end it in such a perfunctory manner.

He slipped his fingers under Qui-Gon's helmet and found the catches to slip it off, holding it to the side as he leaned down to kiss the older man.

“I suppose I'll see you at the coffee shop?” Obi-Wan ventured when they finally pulled back, and Qui-Gon hummed in assent.

“Unless you have other ideas?”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I'm busy until then,” he explained. He had various engagements and a meeting that he couldn't rearrange, as much as it pained him. The idea of not seeing Qui-Gon for 3 days felt like a physical blow, but it couldn't be helped.

Qui-Gon just smiled understandingly, finger brushing Obi-Wan's cheek, “Perhaps you could stay over that night, then,” he ventured, smile broadening at Obi-Wan's delighted expression.

“I could do that,” Obi-Wan agreed. “I look forward to it,” he added in a murmur, leaning in again to press another kiss to Qui-Gon's lips before finally, reluctantly, pulling away.

“Until then,” Qui-Gon pulled his helmet back on, nodding to Obi-Wan.

“Until then,” Obi-Wan agreed, fingers clenched at his side as Qui-Gon revved his engine and then pulled back into the road and disappeared.

Obi-Wan sighed, raising a hand to his lips, and letting out an incredibly undignified yelp when someone jabbed him playfully in the ribs.

“I want _all_ the details, Mister Kenobi!” Satine linked her arm into Obi-Wan's, grinning up at him despite his blush. She leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I know you've had a _very_ good morning _._ It's written all over your face.” She laughed at his attempt to deny it, bumping him with her hip.

“I want to know everything! It's all thanks to me, after all!”

\- - -

It was two day later that Obi-Wan turned up at Qui-Gon' door, completely unexpected.

Qui-Gon didn't ask how Obi-Wan had gotten into the building considering there was security at the pedestrian entrance. Obi-wan was smart and the guards were not.

“Obi-Wan?”

The young man had not even called ahead, and had caught Qui-Gon dressed comfortably in only a pair of pyjama pants.

Obi-Wan could have spent a good long time stood in the doorway, taking in every inch of the taller man, but there were more pressing issues to address. For the moment.

“Bant is moving out,” Obi-Wan said as though that explained everything, stepping into Qui-Gon's apartment when the older man stepped back invitingly.

“Oh?” Qui-Gon shut the door and turned to watch Obi-Wan stroll into his apartment with his overnight bag.

“She's had a job offer on another planet,” Obi-Wan explained. “You said I could stay here, right?” The young man suddenly appeared even younger as he looked at Qui-Gon, worry that he my have changed his mind all over his face.

Qui-Gon's delight was written all over his smile when he realised what Obi-Wan was getting at, “Yes, Obi-Wan, you are more than welcome to live here,” he stepped up to the younger man, engulfing him in a firm hug. Obi-Wan pressed his face into Qui-Gon's bare chest.

“Bant only told me an hour ago,” Obi-Wan explained, voice muffled against Qui-Gon's skin. By Qui-Gon's reckoning Obi-Wan must have packed his bag almost immediately and headed over. “Are you sure it's okay?”

Qui-Gon pressed a firm kiss to Obi-Wan's hair, arm tightening around him, “Yes, Obi-Wan, nothing would make me happier than to have you here.”

He felt Obi-Wan's face heat against his chest, then saw his blush when the younger man lifted his head to smile up at him. Obi-Wan accepted the kiss Qui-Gon pressed to his mouth, looping his arms up around the older man's neck

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan breathed when they parted for air.

“Of course,” Qui-Gon pulled back, putting a decent distance between them, “Have you eaten?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “Not yet.”

“Alright,” Qui-Gon nodded, “How about I order us something?” he offered, and Obi-Wan nodded with a smile.

“That sounds good.”

They conferred briefly for what food to order, and then Obi-Wan picked up his bag and headed toward the back rooms.

“I haven't made the bed in the spare room yet, but--” Qui-Gon started, faltering when Obi-Wan unhesitatingly let himself into Qui-Gon's room.

“Obi-Wan, that's--”

“I know where I'm going,” Obi-Wan interrupted, and Qui-Gon couldn't help agreeing.

Yes. Obi-Wan knew exactly where he belonged.


End file.
